


Fill This Night With Me

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Category: EXO (Band), VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Boys in Skirts, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course Baekhyun's into Sanghyuk wearing a skirt. Baekhyun's into everything Sanghyuk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill This Night With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theafterimages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/gifts).



> written for [theafterimages](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages)' [frat au](http://archiveofourown.org/series/231735) series. check it out! ❤

It comes as a surprise to exactly no one that Baekhyun can't make it to the Guys & Dolls mixer. Sanghyuk had hoped, of course, but the minute the social calendar for the year had come out, Baekhyun had cross-referenced it with his own work schedule and realized the odds were slim to none.

Still, it doesn't stop Sanghyuk from being morose about it. He barely gets to see Baekhyun—weekends, mostly, when Baekhyun can get away and when Sanghyuk doesn't have obligations to his school work or to Kappa Tau. But that's no time at all, considering they'd been attached at the hip all last semester and most of the summer, too.

"Will you stop sighing?" Jiwon asks, looking up at him through a curtain of her hair. She takes a fresh grip on his palm and pulls his hand back onto her knee. A bead of scarlet nail polish forms on the end of the brush, threatening to drip onto Wonshik's carpet.

"Hey, watch it," Wonshik says, blowing on his own wet nails to dry them. His hands look awkward and stubby, tipped a fluorescent purple that Jiwon had insisted was Elle Magazine's color of the year. "He's just sad that he's going stag to this thing."

"Is it still stag if he's in tights and a skirt?" Hongbin ponders from where he's sitting cross-legged on Wonshik's bed, skimming through a photography magazine. His nails are a glossy shade of pleather black.

"It's fine!" Sanghyuk insists crossly. "I'll see him next weekend."

 

Sanghyuk calls Baekhyun later. His voice sounds distant and staticky over the line. It just makes Sanghyuk miss him even more, listening to him laugh.

"You're going to send me pictures, right?" Baekhyun demands. The sound of a turn indicator clicking softly in the background. He's in his car, probably driving home from work. "A full 360."

"You'll have fresh material for your spank bank," Sanghyuk confirms, sitting on the end of his bed. He hasn't started to get dressed yet, even though he can hear the rumblings of the party coming to life in the living room below. Behind him, the entire outfit's been painstakingly laid out—a cute sleeveless top, an a-line skirt. Pantyhose. Heels. A little further on, a long, strawberry blond wig. He looks back up and catches his reflection in the mirror. He recognizes himself, but at the same time he doesn't, cheeks rouged, lashes dark and long with mascara.

"I'm holding you to that."

"I promise," Sanghyuk says. He sighs again. "I miss you."

"I know," Baekhyun says, tone brightening. "Just think of how good it'll be next weekend, though. I can come get you after your class on Friday."

"Okay," Sanghyuk agrees sullenly. "I guess."

A knock on the door jerks him out of the conversation. Hongbin's face appears through the crack, lipsticked and beautiful. He really makes a knockout girl. Wonshik's hovering overhead, slightly less attractive.

"You coming?" Hongbin asks. "Taemin wants everyone downstairs in ten."

Sanghyuk looks at the clothes strewn on his bed, than at his phone, then back at Hongbin. "Ten? Uh. Sure." It's going to take way more than ten minutes to wrangle himself into this get-up, but whatever.

 

He makes it downstairs, eventually. Taemin comes up to see what's taking him so long and ends up helping him into his bra and skirt.

"You look great," Taemin says, stepping back to admire his handiwork, and Sanghyuk has a hard time taking him seriously with that cartoonish, straw colored wig cascading down his shoulders. "Super cute."

Sanghyuk pulls the hem of the skirt out from his thigh and does a few slow spins to give the full effect. The gritty material of the pantyhose swishes quietly as his thighs brush together. "You think?" His nose wrinkles with apprehension. The wig itches like crazy, too.

"I know." He would, too. This mixer had been Taemin's idea. His first declaration the minute the ballots had been counted. "You know—if you want, you can come sleep in our room tonight." He leaves the invitation to hang in the air between them. Sanghyuk chuckles.

"Baekhyun would be pretty mad about missing that one."

Taemin blots at the corner of Sanghyuk's mouth with a tissue, eyes alight with suppressed laughter. "I know. If you get cold, then, or have a bad dream—"

"I got it, Taemin. Thanks, but I'll be fine."

There's a loud boom below as someone cranks the bass in the stereo. Taemin's eyes flash, suddenly all business. "Jackson," he says, already halfway out the door.

Sanghyuk slips on his heels—shiny nude pumps, women's size 14 (Sanghyuk's still dying to know where the hell Hongbin had managed to locate these for him, but he's probably never going to find out for sure)—and descends the staircase.

The first thing they don't tell you about heels, Sanghyuk thinks, is just how wobbly they are. He clings to the arm of the banister with both hands, heels sinking into the plush carpet pile, and slowly makes his way down. Hongbin's waiting there for him when the stairway gives way to the slippery wooden floor of the living room.

"How do girls manage this without breaking an ankle?" Sanghyuk huffs, already feeling the ache in his toes, pressed up against the pointed end of the shoe. Jiwon pops out from somewhere, dressed impeccably in a pantsuit and suspenders.

"Practice."

Wonshik eyes her. "Button up your shirt, you're in a frat house."

She rolls her eyes and leans forward to plant an amiable kiss on Sanghyuk's cheek. "Yeah, Sanghyuk's really objectifying me right now." She notices Taemin's impromptu boob job underneath Sanghyuk's shirt and barks with laughter. "I think he's the one in trouble." She grabs his boob and makes a loud honking noise.

"Alright, hands off," Hongbin says, laughing. "Poor Hyuk is going to get a complex." His hair for the evening is bright, coppery red, bobbed close to his jawline. Wonshik skates his hand down the side of Hongbin's face, all smiles, and tucks a stray piece behind his ear.

"You can squeeze my boobs whenever you want," Sanghyuk tells Jiwon helpfully, just to watch Wonshik's expression sour. Hongbin laughs, and then that perfect dimple in his right cheek deepens as he catches sight of someone behind him.

"Hey," he says. "Nice of you to finally show up."

Sanghyuk barely gets the chance to ask _who_ or turn around before Hongbin and Wonshik are disappearing into the crush of partygoers, leaving him just standing there. And then there's a familiar pair of hands on his waist, and Baekhyun's standing there as casually as if he were still living in the house. He's still in his clothes from work—shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, nice pair of slacks. Hair's starting to get a little long, but Sanghyuk loves to bury his face into the soft curls at the nape of Baekhyun's neck in the morning, so he's glad to see it's still shaggy. Sanghyuk's whole chest expands, brimming over with joy.

"You're here," he says dumbly, for lack of anything else to say. He accepts the soft kiss on his mouth Baekhyun gives him, hands running down Baekhyun's sides over and over like he has to reassure himself that he's not hallucinating, that Baekhyun's really standing in front of him. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"Yeah, like I'd miss this. Baby's first cross-dressing mixer." Baekyun grins. "You sound disappointed. You want me to go?"

"Not disappointed," Sanghyuk says fiercely, hooking both arms around Baekhyun's narrow waist to stop him from trying to shuffle away. Even though Baekhyun's just being playful, it's not funny to Sanghyuk. He shakes his head. "I should've known you'd find a way to come. Did you even have a work thing?"

"You really should've," Baekhyun agrees cheerfully. He steps back to arms length, appraising Sanghyuk's ensemble with a hungry look on his face. "Pictures wouldn't have done this justice. You look amazing. Even better than I'd imagined."

"Better than you, even," Sanghyuk teases, referring to the time Baekhyun had dressed up as Black Widow for the Heroes & Villains mixer. Slowly, Baekhyun slides his hand up Sanghyuk's thigh, tongue poking between his lips in concentration as he pushes past the hem of the skirt and keeps heading north. His hand comes to a stop at the join of Sanghyuk's thigh, thumb stroking the taut nylon across Sanghyuk's bulge. A shiver runs right through Sanghyuk and his cock twitches hopefully. He hopes nobody's watching them right now.

"I'll be the judge of that," Baekhyun decides, dropping his hand at precisely the right moment. Sanghyuk's stomach curls pleasantly when he hears the promise in Baekhyun's tone.

 

An hour later and Sanghyuk's by the drinks table with Jiwon. His feet feel worse, all wobbly and achy. He's going to have to take it easy tomorrow. Jiwon's doing something with the punch bowl. Sanghyuk's fidgeting, picking at his manicure and watching Baekhyun flit around from person to person, saying his hellos, catching up with his brothers. He can tell Baekhyun's really lonely sometimes, living by himself in the middle of the city. The way he lights up when he's surrounded by people, it's hard not to notice.

"Quit it," says Jiwon, slapping at Sanghyuk's hand. "You'll chip it."

Sanghyuk laughs. "Who cares? I'm not going to class on Monday with red fingernails."

"Why not?"

"Because I want my professors to take me seriously," Sanghyuk says. Baekhyun shuffles up just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation and tugs at Sanghyuk's hand to examine his blood red fingernails.

"You really went all out, didn't you? Red?"

"Jiwon said it was classic," Sanghyuk says, and feels stupid the minute the words leave his mouth. Baekhyun snorts.

"Classic, huh? Alright," Baekhyun says. The music changes into something slower. Jiwon steps away from the table, eyes scanning the room for someone. Baekhyun holds out his hand and bows, suddenly old-fashioned.

"Can I have this dance?"

It's Sanghyuk's turn to laugh. "I don't dance," he reminds him, wagging a finger in his face. "Especially not in heels."

"You've been saying that for a year now. The dance part. The heels part sounds like an excuse," Baekhyun says smoothly, leading Sanghyuk out into the middle of the room. Sanghyuk follows obediently, fingers laced, letting Baekhyun tug him through the sweaty crowd to find a space to hold each other right there on the floor.

Sanghyuk's long-since figured out that it's best to stay as still as possible when they're dancing and let Baekhyun do most of the work. Besides, the dance floor is too crowded to do anything more involved than that.

"I'm glad you're here," Sanghyuk says again, neck bent, forehead resting against Baekhyun's. Baekhyun loops his arms around Sanghyuk's neck and uses Sanghyuk's body to hold himself upright. He smells sweaty and tired, like old cologne and the stale air of a car ride. Sanghyuk noses down the side of Baekhyun's face to drop a kiss just behind his ear.

"I am too," Baekhyun murmurs, winding a lock of the long, strawberry blond wig around his index finger. In these heels, Sanghyuk has to really stoop to kiss Baekhyun, but he's more than happy to do it.

“So,” Baekhyun says when Sanghyuk breaks the kiss. His hand is back, snaking up Sanghyuk’s leg, finger hooked in the elastic control top of Sanghyuk’s pantyhose. “How about we get you out of these?”

Sanghyuk glances across the room and nods when he sees what he’s looking for. Ilhoon, his roommate in the house this year, is preoccupied, wedged between two Zeta Beta girls. That’s all the encouragement Baekhyun needs to seize Sanghyuk by the wrist, mid-song, and drag him up the staircase to Sanghyuk’s room.

There’s a reason they’ve stopped hooking up here at the house. For one, it’s just easier for Sanghyuk to go to Baekhyun, where they’ve got the privacy and the space. Every noise has Sanghyuk jumping, his eyes wide, heart racing, just waiting for Ilhoon or Hongbin or Jongin to walk in and find them even though he knows nobody's going to come looking.

Baekhyun’s not deterred, though. He kneels up on Sanghyuk’s bed to even out the disparity in their heights, and then tugs insistently at Sanghyuk’s stretchy top, pulling the neckline down past his shoulders.

“Off,” he says, as the music thumps through the floor from below. “Come on, faster.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Sanghyuk demands, trying to pull the twisty fabric up. It keeps getting caught on his elbows, snaring him up like a roped calf. "Girls' clothes, I mean."

"Yes," Baekhyun says, eyebrow lifting. He doesn't elaborate, and the devilish grin creeping across his face could mean a number of things. But then the smile's gone, scrunched into delighted laughter when he exposes Sanghyuk's bra, stuffed to brimming with socks. "Nice," he says appreciatively, pulling one out and holding it between thumb and forefinger.

"Taemin did it," Sanghyuk mutters, fumbling behind his back to unsnap the bra, wrist bent at an awkward angle. He can't quite catch it.

Baekhyun pulls out another sock and tosses it on the floor. "You have ridiculous big-titty, 'I-paid-five-figures-for-these' double d's. Of course Taemin did it." Baekhyun stands back and looks at Sanghyuk, completely topless but still dressed from the waist down. "Take off the shoes," Baekhyun decides. "You're already too tall without them."

"Never had any complaints before," Sanghyuk says, kicking the pumps across the room. They land with a loud crash at the back of his closet. Instant relief. "Fuck. My feet hurt." He looks up and sees Baekhyun leaning over his bedside table, rummaging through the drawers.

"Condoms?" Baekhyun asks, looking over his shoulder. His entire body's a question mark.

Sanghyuk frowns—they _should_ be there—and then it hits him: "Shit. I brought them to your place last weekend. Because you said—"

"I ran out. Yes. Shit." Baekhyun sits back on the bed and scowls. "Does Illhoon—"

"I'm _not_ going through his stuff," Sanghyuk says firmly. "Look, it's okay, let me blow you—"

"No," Baekhyun says, unsnapping his trousers with one hand and stepping out of them. His boner's already making a noticeable tent in his underwear. "I need to fuck you in that skirt. I've been thinking about it all day, and I will not be denied. You've got Vaseline, right?"

"I—yeah," Sanghyuk says slowly, gesturing at the tub on his bedside table, next to the box of tissues.

"Perfect. That'll do."

"What are you—? We can't—"

"Take off those tights," Baekhyun urges, grinning beatifically. "I'm going to fuck your thighs."

 

He doesn't end up taking off his tights as much as Baekhyun ends up ripping them off—thumbs working a hole through the cotton crotch, then peeling them away like nude colored wrapping paper. Sanghyuk's hard and aching to be touched, but Baekhyun keeps stroking the side of his neck, kissing up his chest, anything but putting his mouth or his hands on Sanghyuk's dick, where Sanghyuk desperately wants them to be.

Finally, Baekhyun's impatience seems to get the better of him. Baekhyun muscles him up against the bed and flips him around, nipping kisses down the expanse of Sanghyuk's back. The door is ajar and anyone could walk past and see them, but they don't—they're too involved with what's going on with the party to notice that Baekhyun's fucking Sanghyuk upstairs. Besides, with the way they went at it like rabbits last year, everyone's pretty used to Sanghyuk going missing for hours at a time in the middle of their mixers.

Sanghyuk crosses his ankles, just like Baekhyun had shown him the first time they'd done this, and leans back on his elbows just a little bit. Baekhyun hikes up Sanghyuk's skirt, exposing Sanghyuk's ass to the cool air, and then guides his cock into the gap between Sanghyuk's plush thighs. He works himself back and forth a few times to distribute the Vaseline, then slips his fingers around Sanghyuk's balls with his other hand.

"Yeah," Sanghyuk gasps, head dropping back. It's still not enough, but it's better. Baekhyun feels thick between his legs, and Sanghyuk flexes his thigh muscles in response, trying to make it tighter for Baekhyun. From the way he moans, low and loud, it's definitely appreciated.

"Did I—forget—to mention—you look—incredible—tonight?" Baekhyun asks, panting into the nape of Sanghyuk's neck. He drops the skirt in favor of putting his other hand on Sanghyuk's cock— _finally_ —and Sanghyuk bows his body lower onto his elbows, chin on his hands.

"I always do," he grits out, feeling Baekhyun start to tense up above him. His pace jerking Sanghyuk off goes erratic, skirt rustling loudly with the movement of his elbow, until Sanghyuk grabs hold of his wrist to hold him steady and help him out.

The music changes downstairs again, something loud and thumping. Baekhyun comes in hot stripes across Sanghyuk's bedspread, the skirt, and the back of Sanghyuk's thighs. The skirt's ruined, sodden with Baekhyun's release. Sanghyuk doesn't even care, just groans and thrusts into Baekhyun's limp hand a little harder, wishing he could see Baekhyun's face and catch up to his climax.

Eventually, Baekhyun's breathing evens out. "Fuck, that was good," Baekhyun says, kissing Sanghyuk's sweaty back fondly, and then, politely, has enough presence of mind to finish Sanghyuk off as well.

 

Later, in the car on the way back to Baekhyun's, Sanghyuk puts his hand in between the headrest and the back of Baekhyun's head, ruffling his hair. His fingernails are still red.

"So I was thinking about next time," Baekhyun says, tipping his head back just enough to move into Sanghyuk's touch.

It takes a moment for Sanghyuk's drowsy brain to register and process Baekhyun's words. "Hm? Next time? Next weekend?"

"Next cross-dressing mixer." He flexes his hands on the wheel. Readjusts his grip, drops his right hand into Sanghyuk's lap and squeezes. "You need to be in a better dress than that. It's a shame to hide those thighs."

"Better—dress?" Sanghyuk manages, voice squeaking. He feels himself rise in his jeans, improbably, even though the fatigue is settling heavy under his skin.

"Yeah. Something tight."

Sanghyuk's breathing heavier now, eyes closed, picturing it. "You going to fuck me in that, too?"

"What do you think?" Baekhyun twists his fingers so he's brushing his knuckles up against the tent in Sanghyuk's jeans. Barely enough friction to do anything, but Sanghyuk's body is well-trained to respond to Baekhyun's advances. He grabs Baekhyun's wrist and grinds his crotch against Baekhyun's hand for a split second before Baekhyun snatches his hand free.

"Ah-ah, don't distract the driver," Baekhyun says, grinning cheekily. "We can take care of that when I get you home."


End file.
